Life In Reverse(33)

“I didn’t say you were.” Although I was thinking it. “It’s surprising. Sue me, Mickey, but you don’t seem like the pot-smoking type.”

She quickly corrects me. “I didn’t say I was a pot-smoker. I tried it. Just that once, actually. It made me paranoid and I ate a whole bunch of junk food I wouldn’t normally eat. So it was basically my first and last time.” I chuckle at her reasons for never doing it again and she joins in before she adds, “I ate an entire two bags of Cheetos.”

“A whole two bags?” I tease her, and she grabs the Twinkies from the center console and chucks them at me. “That’s just… wrong.”

Her green eyes thin though her smile shines through. Since she reminded me about the Twinkies, I pick them up and tear open the package, holding one out in front of her. “Twinkie?”

She makes a chopping motion with her hand against her neck, her grin uncontrollable. “Uh, no thanks. I’ve already had my chemical allowance for the day.”

“Suit yourself.” I bite into the Twinkie and groan in appreciation. “But you seriously don’t know what you’re missing.”

Her smile dissolves into thoughtfulness and she runs her palm over the dashboard. “I’m going to keep this car until it won’t drive anymore. Maybe even longer than that. I don’t want to let it go.” She exhales a sigh. “It would be like tossing away a piece of him.” Then quietly she utters, “And I can’t do that.”

Finished with the Twinkie, I wipe a hand on my jeans before lifting my ass up to reach into my front pocket. I slide out the smooth black stone with orange and grey flecks and lift it in the air between us. “My mom and I used to skip stones at the river. She’s the one who taught me how to do it.” I glare at the rock as the memory clogs my chest, making it hard to breathe. “One day we were there and I found this stone. I showed it to her and was getting ready to flip it into the water, but she told me it was too beautiful and I should hold onto it.” I smile at the stupid little stone. “So I did. I keep it with me always. I’ll never let it go.”

She nods in understanding then holds her hand out. I drop the stone into her palm. Her index finger rolls over the surface and she eyes it with admiration. “It is beautiful. I like the little dashes of color. Makes it unique.”

The honk of a horn behind us indicates that traffic has started moving again. I bring my attention back to the road. The sun is beginning to set, shades of oranges and pinks skid across the sky—reminiscent of a painting.

“Oh, wow. Vance, can you pull over?” The sound of Ember frantically searching through her purse makes me pause.

“Sure. Is everything okay?” As it seems important, I abruptly check for cars before veering off into the emergency lane. I put the hazards on, venturing a glance her way. “What are you doing?”

She’s already out the door when I hear her call back, “I want to get some pictures of the sunset.”

I watch her with I don’t know what—interest, maybe fascination, as she continues to snap pictures with her iPhone. She holds the phone this way and that, in various angles as she shifts on her feet and changes locations. She’s so unlike any of the girls I’ve known. Then again, I haven’t really made an effort to know any in a long time—only in the biblical sense. They’re all the same anyway—except Ember. She is… different. I haven’t quite figured out if that’s a good thing for me or not.

“That sunset is amazing.” She bounces into the car with enough f*cking enthusiasm to have me excited. “Look at these pictures.” Lifting the phone, she holds it between us and scrolls through them.

“They’re… nice.”

She slaps me on the shoulder. “They’re fantastic. I’m going to print a few out and get them blown up and framed.” I tilt my head, surveying the brightness in her eyes and the way her lips curve higher on one side than the other. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I rap a finger against my mouth. “I’m just wondering who you are, Ember Bennett?”

She wiggles her dark brows and her eyelashes flutter. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was flirting with me. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Yeah. I think I would.





WOULDN’T YOU LIKE to know? For a split second, I wonder who this carefree person is and where the heck Ember went. I’d almost be mortified by my own words if Vance wasn’t looking at me with such interest—as if he wants to know more about me—as if I’m genuinely interesting. I mean, I’m confident with who I am. It’s not that. Actually, I don’t know what it is.

At a loss of how to follow up that awkward moment, I’m about to say something to detract from it when a yawn escapes. I cover my mouth with my hand. “I guess I’m a little tired.”

“Understandable,” Vance affirms. “Talking about cinnamon rolls for hours on end can certainly be exhausting.” He blows out a breath then winks a ridiculously dazzling blue eye at me. “I know I’m f*cking wiped.”

“You’re a smart-ass is what you are.” I motion with my head toward the wheel. “More driving and less talking,” I order, and he raises a hand to his forehead in salute.

“You’re cute when you’re bossy,” he mumbles, concentrating on getting us back onto I-5 to head home. It’s then that I realize how late it is and decide to check in on Mom. Pulling out my phone, I dial her number. It rings several times before going to voicemail.